The Greatest Discovery
by Tfelicity
Summary: John discovers that things are not what they seem. He is about to open a Pandora's Box full of secrets
1.

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Twelve A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). John looked up from his breakfast and cocked his head to one side, studying his aunt. There was something about her that he couldn't quite figure out. He liked her, he even trusted her, after all, she had indulged him in whatever he wanted, even so far as to make arrangements for him to go back to the jungle. "How did you know I could read?" He asked finally. Kathleen looked up from her coffee and smiled. This house may be huge, but you can't keep a secret like that for long. Mary found a few books missing went looking for them and found them in your salon. John smiled. "Mary cleans too much." Kathleen laughed, "perhaps so, but I don't know what I would do without her." John was curious about that too. Richard had the same situation. There was always someone else around to do things for them. They didn't have to cook, clean, hunt or forage, everything was always there for them. "You are rich aren't you?" He really couldn't comprehend what that meant. "Yes John, WE are rich. You have your own money." He finished off his orange juice, bit into a thick piece of Texas toast and questioned. "I am rich?" he finished chewing and swallowing. "I don't understand how I can be rich. I don't have a job that I go to for pay like Jane; I don't own a company like you or like Richard. How can I be rich?"  
  
Kathleen swallowed her mouthful of coffee and tried to organize her thoughts before she spoke, "Your father, my brother, was the principal stock holder in this company." John was lost there. She realized that and started over. "My father owned a small company, Greystoke. In his lifetime, Greystoke grew and made more money. The company bought other companies and continued to grow, making my father a very wealthy man. When my brother, your father was old enough, he began to work for my father; he went to school, got a very good education in business law and took over part of the company. When your uncle Richard was old enough, he too was given part of the company, as was I, when I became old enough. Your father was given what they call a controlling interest in the company." She could see the confusion in John's expression, but she went on, hoping that he would soon understand. "That means that even though my father, myself and Richard also owned part of the company, John, your father, was in charge. Like the chief. Now she could see the light go on in John's eyes. He was beginning to understand. This piece of knowledge made many things make sense. Now things started to fall into place. If John had not been found, his inheritance would have been split in equally between Richard and Kathleen. Richard wanted it all, so he fought Kathleen for it, while still looking for some sort of hope that John Sr. or Jr. had survived, that way, Richard had a better chance of getting the company away from Kathleen. This was why he wanted John in his good graces, so that he could control what John owned. Jane stared at her window, wishing that the Wild Man, from the newspaper would show up there. He had left abruptly this morning, he barely said good bye. What was on his mind lately? Jane began to worry that she had pushed him away so hard and so often that he had given up on her. She fretted that he might actually be learning to accept her as his friend and nothing more. Nikki knocked on the door and walked into the room to see Jane staring into the air. "You okay?" she asked. Nikki knew that John had a big hold on her sister, but she really didn't know what to make of their relationship. It wasn't a 'normal' relationship, not even for the obsessive/compulsive Jane. Jane smiled at her little sister. "Sometimes I wish I were 7 years old again and my biggest problem was learning how to ride my roller skates." Nikki agreed, but then she tried to show her the good side of being an adult. "Yeah, but when you were 7, you wouldn't have known that a man like John even existed, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet him, to hear about his world." Jane stopped Nikki from talking. "You know what Nik, John doesn't talk about his world." Had she been so selfish that she didn't want to hear about it, or was it just that he didn't want to talk about it, or need to talk about it? While the sisters continued to converse, the phone began to ring. Nikki ran to answer it and was gone for some time. Jane surmised that the call was for her. She tried to decide whether or not she should go out, or sit here and wait, or go back to bed. John had errands to do, but he needed to see Jane. He needed to feel her skin, to smell her hair, to be close to her. Sleeping in her arms last night had felt so good, he hadn't wanted to leave her, but he knew that if he didn't things might happen that she didn't want to happen; at least she kept saying that she didn't want them to happen. Her body language still kept telling him something else. Just as Jane was about to close the door to her bedroom, she heard the rap on the window. John had taken to knocking lately, especially in situations where he knew he would startle her. She was so pleased to see him, and this made John very happy. Jane even went so far as to embrace John in a welcoming hug. John was momentarily stunned. "Jane?" he questioned. She smiled and tugged on a lock of his hair in response. He laughed. This was not the Jane that he knew so well, this was another side to her, a side he was more than willing to get to know. This was not the right time though.  
  
"Are you coming in for brunch?" Jane asked through the blush that John could cause on her so easily lately. He shook his head. 'What is brunch?" She laughed. "You say no, and then you ask what it is? Brunch is a late breakfast, early lunch." He shook his head, so many strange words. "Oh." She still had a lock of his hair in her hands and was holding it quite tightly. "Is something wrong Jane?" he asked, gently pulling her hand out of his hair. She blushed again and smiled. "Tell me Jane." She was embarrassed to say the things that she was thinking, and didn't know how John would respond, so she again, kept them to herself. "It's nothing John." John wrapped his hands around hers and pulled them up to his lips, never breaking their eye contact. He knew just how to push her buttons. "You aren't calling me Tarzan. I thought you were going to call me Tarzan." He didn't care if she called him Tarzan or John, as long as she spoke to him; he just wanted to know what was on her mind. Getting her to talk about her feelings was difficult, she was either unhappy or angry when she talked about things, it was rare that she shared her feelings when she was happy, or even content. He waited a few moments, kissed her hands and let them go. "I have to go now. Do you want me to come back today?" Jane was upset that he even had to ask that. What kind of signals was she sending him? "Of course I want you to come back John, Tarzan, Wild Man!" She pleaded. John smiled his crooked smile and turned toward the window. Just then Jane noticed, "You are wearing the moccasins!" He turned to her and smiled, "I don't like them climbing, but they are good for walking, keep my feet warmer." He said good bye to her and disappeared up to the roof of her building. Jane stared out of the opened window wondering what in the hell was wrong with her that turned her into a ball of mush every time that man was near. She was worse than a teenager with a crush! Richard was sipping a coffee at his desk when John arrived, through the front door, announced by the secretary. Richard almost fell off of his chair when John came in, wearing shoes no less. There was hope for this young man, there was hope for Greystoke. "John, welcome." Richard held his hand out to john, but John did not take it. Richard took it to mean that he didn't understand the etiquette behind the handshake, so he took it upon himself to educate his nephew. "When two friends or relatives greet each other, they usually shake hands or embrace. John extended his hand for a quick shake. He did NOT want Richard embracing him. He could still smell Jane on his clothes and he wanted that scent to stay with him a while. Richard showed John to a comfortable chair, called his secretary and asked her to hold his calls, then sat down with John. He offered John a cup of coffee, but John still hadn't developed a taste for it, so he politely declined. "This is a wonderful surprise again John, this time coming in through the front doors, wearing shoes. I think you are getting the hang of living in New York in the autumn!" Richard's smile seemed sincere. John could feel no animosity here. What was Richard's agenda if not to get John's money from him? Of course that was it; just what did he plan to do to get it. John couldn't decide if he were going to play along or if he was going to put an end to the charade. Instead, he decided that the direct approach was more his style. "I am rich." He simply stated. "Yes John, I am aware of that fact. We are shareholders in the same company." Richard replied, trying to figure out where John was going with this. "I know that I own a big part of Greystoke." Richard figured that he had been talking to Kathleen. It wasn't uncommon knowledge; anyone could have told him that. "I own more of Greystoke than you do, is that right?" Now Richard knew that Kathleen had a hand in this. Richard chose his words wisely. 'Your father owned a controlling interest in the company John and that would be passed down to you when you turn 25." Had he given him too much information? John was only 24 right now, so Kathleen had been wrong, John was not rich. "And what happens now?" John kept the line of communication going; he needed to know where things stood. Richard was unsure what he was asking and admitted so. John stood up and paced the room, heading to the window to look down on the city. Richard stood as well and joined his nephew at the window. "Right now you are not rich." Simply stated, but true. Richard then reneged that statement and added, "you have money, it's called a trust fund. This money is to make sure that you have the necessities of life, food, clothing, a place to live etc." Now John was lost. "I don't understand, trust fund. Please, explain this to me." Richard slid his hand in his pocket and subconsciously played with the small ornate key that belonged to the beautifully carved wooden box in his desk drawer. "You don't need to worry about anything; you have money to live, like an allowance. If you need something, you will take it from the trust fund." John heard the sound of keys clinking together in Richard's pocket, and he remembered standing in the rain watching his uncle open a very fancy box last night. Something was making him nervous. John would have to find a way to see the document. He changed the subject. "You work too much, you are always here." John stated to his uncle. Richard, relieved by the change in topic responded smiling. 'I'm the CEO of one of the biggest companies in North America, there is little time for anything other than work. John wanted him out of this room for a while, but how could he do this without raising suspicions. "I would like to have brunch. Would you like to come with me for brunch. I will be allowed into the restaurant because I have shoes on." Richard laughed and placed his hand on John's back for the full effect. John had a very difficult time not recoiling from this touch. He half smiled and walked toward the chair again. "So, we will have brunch, you must show me what brunch is." John felt bad using Jane's "brunch" to get to Richard. He thought that he could have a small mean with Richard, in a restaurant that Richard would have to drive to, and John could go his own way when they were done. John would hurry back to this uncles, go into the office, open the drawer, pull out the box, open it, find out what was inside, close it and be gone before Richard got off of the elevator. It was a plan. 


	2. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com).  
  
The Greatest Discovery – Part One  
  
Setting: In Richard's home, tied to the bed, listening to Richard rant about John's behaviour. Mood: solemn  
  
Richard stared down at the face of his nephew. Some spark of hope arose in him, John had finally quieted down, and maybe now they could get to the business of getting down to business. Richard's future plans included his nephew, not in the way that Kathleen believed, but in a way that would make John acceptable to the world in which Richard lived in. John couldn't survive in this "jungle"; he would be eaten alive by the Wall St. giants and the market. No, Richard would 'train' him to survive in his world. He would 'mold' John in the image he believed that his brother would have wanted. There were many people in the world, including Kathleen, who didn't know how ruthless John Clayton Sr. could be, had been. He was no saint when it came to the business world. He knew the rules, and he knew how to bend them without breaking them. Richard worshipped his brother as a business genius. He had kept his good reputation right up to the end. Richard, however, didn't have the same type of business savvy as his brother, so his reputation quickly became tarnished. Oh he was a great business man, but he was not the charismatic character his brother John could be. Richard wanted so much to be able to emulate that person, but he just couldn't seem to pin down what he was doing wrong. He was hoping that his was an innate characteristic, and that John Jr. would have this charisma. With Richard's business sense and John's charisma, perhaps the two of them could raise the empire to the level that he was certain John Sr. could have. John lay on the bed, trying to clear his mind of everything. He managed to slow his breathing down to almost nothing, and his pulse was nearly non existent. He let his mind release and soar into the great unknown. Back in Africa, in the Congo, he was in the trees, watching the great apes moving about slowly. He had learned that he was welcome when they told him to come, but if he just 'showed up', he would not be. One of the apes, a female that he had lovingly named Cheetah, had taken him in and nurtured him as one of her own children, she had loved him, groomed him and fed him, and then she taught him how to hunt. The other apes had played with him and he had learned his survival instincts from them. But he knew he was not one of them. While still young, he had seen the black men from a nearby village dancing around a fire singing praises to their gods, and young John was so pleased to see human beings again, that he ran to them, interrupting their ceremony. It was soon apparent that he was not welcome as they drew knives and weapons on him, beat on him then tossed him back into the bush, calling him Tarzan; the white ape. They laughed as Cheetah rescued him. Frightened, he never returned to their village. He stayed far away from them and always would. There were many people around John now, lifting him and putting him on a moving bed, rushing him out of the room, down the elevator to a waiting ambulance. He could sense Jane, and he even picked up on her scent. He did not rouse himself yet. Not yet. The apes moved about, doing what they do. Some were foraging, some were feeding, babies were nursing and some were attempting to mate. It was all so strange to Tarzan. He had ventured farther each day, but still returned to the place where his parents had passed into the great unknown. He would sit by their rock graves and speak to them nightly, telling them how much he missed them and how afraid he was. Cheetah would come to sit with him and try to comfort him, letting him fall asleep on her shoulder or even her lap. Time passed and John grew, his body changed and he began to worry. The great apes were huge and hairy. He was getting bigger, but he was not growing the hair that they had. He tried to remember his father, but all that he had was a small locket on a rope around his neck to turn to. His father had no hair on his face, and his mother had none on hers, so he surmised that he was not to have his hair all over himself as the apes had. It was a real epiphany to realize that he was not really an ape. Many moons had passed over head while he dwelled in the jungle. There were beings similar to him, but since his meeting with the villagers as a child, he refused to bother with these men. There were no other 'white apes' like him. Upon realization of this, John became somber, and spent a great deal of time just hunting, trying to forget. He would close his mind to the world and just deal with the task at hand. He hardened his heart over time and finally wanted nothing to do with anyone or anything. When the baby apes wanted to play with him, he would push them away, still they would come back and he would push them away again. Cheetah tried to groom him and comfort him, but he pushed her away most of the time. His time now was spent tracking the wild cats, killing them and eating the raw meat. John could feel pressure on his chest as something was pushed against it, then a horrible shocking pain ran through him. His body jolted, but his mind stayed blocked. Again this pain shot through him, still he remained peaceful. A warm hand held his and he could feel the moisture of something against his knuckles. What was he feeling? Slowly his mind began to return to the present. Hunting had become second nature to Tarzan. There was nothing he seemed to fear, and nothing that he wouldn't track. One day he happened upon an encampment of men, men that were not black. This caught his interest. He stared down at them quietly, hiding in the trees. There were men with hair the colour of the apes, but skin the same colour as his. Curiosity kept him anchored to the tree. A man with skin on top of his head seemed to be barking orders, and everyone listened. He must have been the chief, Tarzan guessed. The man looked almost familiar, but no, that was not possible. It was a woman who held his hand, it was Jane's scent. He could hear her in his sub-conscious state. She was begging him not to leave her. She didn't realize that he was still here, that he was beside her, not gone. Memories flooded his mind, many images at once, images of a cage, then of a beautiful woman. He could not separate one image from the next. There was that man with no hair on top of his head, claiming to be his uncle, his father's brother. Had he forgotten his father? Had he forgotten his life before the jungle? Beautiful auburn hair blew across his face both, leaving a fresh clean scent behind. He could no longer concentrate, his pulse began to quicken and his breathing heavier. Slowly John began to open his eyes. Jane sat beside him, holding tightly to his hand, tears streaming down her face, her voice faltering, begging him not to give up. She kept saying "don't go". He smiled up at her, watching her expression change quickly as she noted the machines beginning to make odd 'beeping' sounds. She looked at him, seeing his clear blue eyes, excitedly spoke, "You're back!" She was so happy; her eyes lit up like a full moon in a black sky. His lips curled on the right side and he spoke softly, "I never left." But in face, he had left, he had left her to return home, to fine out if there was anything left at 'home' for him to go back to. Upon seeing the reaction on Jane's lovely face, John decided that there was nothing left back there to return to, but there was definitely a reason to stay here. Behind the look of utter relief, was something more, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But he was determined to find out Jane hollered for the ambulance driver to stop and they scurried out of the back doors of the ambulance. Once they were hidden from view, Jane finally asked what had happened. John asked if she could not do that too. He had learned that from the animals, when they were in danger, they would play dead. Jane laughed and said something that he didn't understand, "Play possum". He just nodded and they began to walk briskly down the alley way. It was bitterly cold, and John, who normally didn't feel the elements as much as Jane, was cold, He blamed it on the stasis that he had just come out of, his body was not quite back to 'normal'. Once he began to feel himself again, things started coming back to him and his anger began to build up. He felt like that child that had been sent away from the village, he felt like he didn't belong anywhere, that everyone was his enemy, save for Jane. She could see him beginning to seethe, and tried to lighten the mood. She even went so far as purchasing him a coat from a merchant in the back alley. Of course the merchant was not as up to the idea of selling the coat as Jane was to buying it! She seemed to be in such a good mood, but John continued to brood. He was undeniably, unmistakably, unhappy. Jane tried to alter his mood, but instead it spurred his anger. He was very upset by the way that things had turned out. He thought he was helping her by going to Richard, but Richard had not helped Jane, his motives had been purely selfish. John was tired of using Jane's tactics. Even if this wasn't 'his' world, he was now a part of it, and it was time to take matters into his own hands. He would handle this situation 'his' way. After taking this up with Jane, arguing with her that her ways hadn't done anything to help them, he disappeared. She looked up where he had climbed and he was no where to be seen. Now she was truly frightened for John, and even more so for Richard. Jane had never seen that wild look on John before. Perhaps that was the wild animal that Sam had alluded to on many occasion, she was frightened. Her only recourse was to warn Richard, who of course would not take her seriously. 


	3. Chapter Two

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Two A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com).  
  
Richard of course said that Kathleen was just being silly when she arrived at his home to warn him about John. Feeling quite confident that he could 'handle anything that came at him, Richard went ahead with plans. Surely after everything that happened, John should have started to realize where he was going with their relationship. He was only attempting to 'civilize' John. Richard tied his tie and stepped toward the door. Every good sense that he had told him that Kathleen was right and she should not go out tonight. There was still a long road ahead of he and John if Richard was going to bring him into the family business. Even with the worry, Richard decided that this would have to wait, there were people expecting him tonight. Climbing into the limo, thinking carefully about the recent events, Richard tried to convince himself that he wasn't worried about John, but he really was. After all; The boy had fooled him into believing that he was almost dead, and got out of the back of the ambulance and ran away. What other tricks did John have up his sleeve? Richard had to rethink his entire strategy. Somehow, he would have to get Jane on his side. If he could convince Jane, surely John wouldn't be far behind. Up to now, Richard had underestimated the boy, but that wouldn't happen again. The tiger tracked its prey through the jungle, quietly moving between the vines and the trees, sniffing at the air, eyes searching all directions. After a moment, he was still, seemingly having lost the scent to his quarry. Tarzan stared down through the leaves and vines to the regal cat below him. He sat still, not even blinking. The cat would not desist, he was determined to find the victim, but as patient as he was to wait it out, Tarzan was as patient to wait in the treetop. After what seemed like hours, the cat finally gave up and continued on his way, looking to find a meal elsewhere. Tarzan grabbed a snake-like vine and swung himself over to another tree, then found a direct route to the ground. He would now hunt the tiger. The hunted would become the hunter. Staying downwind of the animal, Tarzan tracked him patiently through the winding paths of the jungle, quietly creeping in the wake of its footsteps. After what seemed like hours, finally the man pounced on the cat, digging a sharp knife into the heart of the animal, and then struggling momentarily with the jerking motions caused by the quick death. There was no satisfaction in the kill, other than the fact that Tarzan would be able to eat again. He dragged the dead animal to a spot below his own lair and hid it within a cave, trying to cover up the scent of the blood by wringing the rind of some melons over it, and then placing mud around entrance to the cave. John sat in wait for his uncle to leave the building. He would track him as far as he had to, and then he would make his move. Richard would no longer be safe from his nephew. This kill would have some satisfaction. There would be no meat, but there would no longer be the threat of this horrible man that seemed to have nothing but trouble in mind for John and anyone close to him. No one seemed to be safe, Jane would be a target, Kathleen as well. John was worried that Richard wouldn't stop at them and would continue on, perhaps targeting Nikki, Sam and anyone else that might be "in the way". The limousine pulled away from the building. John had noticed that Jane watched from an alley way. She would not be endangered by this problem any further. He threw a sharpened stick into her back tire, flattening it. Jane would not be following Richard's limousine. John would have that privilege. John moved as though he was being hunted. He backtracked, hid his tracks, sidestepped and kept both eyes on the car. Although there were no thick vines to carry him across the way, the roof tops in New York made it easy for him to get around quickly, still seeing his quarry clearly. Knowing that Jane would be safe now, that Kathleen wouldn't have to worry any further, John started to feel more 'in charge". He would make his move as the car turned left. Slamming down onto the front window, breaking it, he pulled the driver out of the car and sent him off into the street. The man ran faster than the car, as it hit the curb and stopped. John disappeared once more. He watched from above as Nash got out of the car and did a check of the area. He could see Nash talking to Richard and watched as Richard got back into the car. John jumped Nash and had him down and out, immediately disappearing again. Richard got back out of the car and found Nash unconscious on the ground. He reached into Nash's belt and took a gun from the unaware man. Now they were embroiled in an intricate game of cat and mouse and somehow Richard realized he might actually be playing for his life. John almost laughed, knowing that Richard might very well have been unarmed; he would never know what hit him. There was no struggle; there was no time to think before Richard was flying over the railing down to the ground below a low bridge. A flaming barrel came down, almost reaching him, John pounced on him. Tarzan sat at the entrance to the cave, ripping the meat from the bones of the dead animal, cutting it's pelt to make a warm cover for those cool nights. Some monkeys tried to take some of the meat, but Tarzan wasn't in the sharing mood, shooing them away, threatening them with loud screeches. He settled back down to chew on the meat, savoring it, blood running down his chin onto his chest. He took his hands and rubbed it into his skin in some primal rite. Today he would be the white ape, today he would be primitive and let his instincts lead him where them may. John could almost taste the blood running down his chin again. His primal instincts had taken him over. He would protect what was his, to the death if need be, either his or Richard's. Nothing would stop him now. "You're gonna die", he warned Richard, who tried to reason with John, to no avail. John would stop him once and for all. John wielded a large tire iron and loomed heavily over his uncle, a man who had seemed so large until now. As with the tiger, John was able to take down the hunter and become the hunter. He would savor this victory. "Don't do it John", he could hear his uncle say. Lost in a place, a jungle, John barely heard the voice speak. He could hear another voice telling him to stop. He was the hunter now; he wouldn't be swayed from his prize. Nothing could stop him, not even Jane...... It was Jane. John chose to ignore her words and lifted the iron high, ready to bring it down on the now folding figure of his uncle. A gunshot rang and John turned to Jane, pain in his eyes. "You're not a murderer John, that's not who you are, I know that in my heart. After everything that we've been through, what, you're just going to prove me wrong? That was for nothing?" He shot her a wounded look and his gaze wondered back to Richard, who leaned heavily against a car for support. Jane continued her tirade, "You do this, you're never going to see me again, you know that right? Never." Her words cut like a knife. Somewhere deep within his heart, he knew it. He had known since the hunt began that if he saved himself and her from Richard, he would lose her. Was he willing to risk it anyway? John turned away from her and then crashed the tire iron into the back fender of the car, missing Richard by inches. The tire iron came down heavy on the hood of the car that John had Richard pinned against. He hit it a couple of times and then he slammed against the vehicle with his own body, almost tipping the car. He dropped the tire iron and Richard slowly slid toward the ground, counting his blessings. He took his anger out on the car and turned to Jane. She pleaded with him, "John we're going to fix this, we're going to fix it the right way." He stared at her, stepping into her space and plainly said, "Your rules don't work." to which she replied, "I'm not asking you to trust my rules, I'm not asking you to trust my laws, I'm asking you to trust me!" John's expression softened somewhat, and Jane could see that the residual anger was slowly dissipating. It would be a long night. John walked away without another word. Jane followed John, leaving Richard to his own devices. She had called Sam for backup and he wouldn't be long. John was her priority right now. He walked fast; she couldn't decide whether he walked away in anger, frustration or defeat. Perhaps a combination of the three. 


	4. Chapter Three

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Three A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). Jane almost had to run to catch up with John. Finally she did, grabbing a hold of his elbow and startling him in turn. "What's the rush, where are you going?" Jane questioned. The look on John's face told her that he was still very much in a state of shock. She even wondered if he realized what he had been driven to do. "John, do you realize the enormity of what just happened with you and your uncle?" He cocked his head to the side and stared at her. She was unsure as to why, whether he didn't understand what she said, or if her really, truly didn't realize what had taken place back there. Without a word, John began to walk away. Jane merely followed. Did she realize the enormity of what happened back there? She had made him chose between her and himself, and he had chosen her. It seemed as if something changed right there and then. Was this the person that Sam had warned her about some time ago? John's temper had taken him, like a drug addict with a new 'fix'. Was it possible for John to survive the concrete jungle?  
  
Jane followed John back to Kathleen's home. Instead of climbing up the side of the building, she chose to go through the front doors. John needed some quiet time and she needed to inform Kathleen about what had happened this night. Kathleen greeted Jane with some trepidation. "You're alone, didn't you find John yet?" Jane entered the apartment and began to relate the story to Kathleen. Unbeknownst to both of them, John sat at the top of the stairs listening to them talk about him. He recalled the evening, seeing it through Jane's eyes. It was primal, savage. John had reached the end of his patience and did not know what direction to go. The law of the jungle he was raised in, was simple, kill or be killed. There were few instances when any mercy had been shown, compassion a rarity. Here in Jane's concrete jungle, it seemed the same. He saw it every day since he had found his freedom. There didn't seem to be much compassion or mercy in this world either. People were mean to each other, and it still seemed as though it was a kill or be killed motto at work here too.  
  
He lifted her up by one arm, she was very light. Her eyes were brown, almost as brown as the ape's eyes, her long hair the colour of some of the apes, a dark brownish red colour. She had been following him, chasing him over rooftops, but she had lost her grip on this last jump. Even though he saved her life, she stood before him and pulled a gun. Before she could finish speaking, she fell limp into his arms. She was like nothing he had ever known before. Her hair smelled like fresh flowers, and it felt as soft as breeze. He carried her away from the edge and lay her down, propping her head up. Like the apes do, he felt her skin with the back of his hand, tracing the front of her blouse down to the opening at her navel. Her skin was soft, hairless like his. She was beautiful. Finally waking, she reacted to him by pushing him away, but he thought it was more playful. He continued to touch her, stare at her, to connect with her. For moments it felt as though he knew her. Then the wind blew too strong and the lights shone too bright and he was hit by darts that made him fall asleep. When he awoke, she was not there, he had been captured again. All he could think of was the beautiful creature with the long hair and the soft skin. He sat on the floor of his room and continued to rock to the silence, trying to remember her features, recalling the softness of her, the lightness of her weight as he carried her. Still, he felt as if he knew her.  
  
"Have you been there long John?" Kathleen questioned, sitting beside him on the top step. Instinctively, she opened her arms to him and wrapped them around him, drawing him close to her. "Are you all right?" John allowed Kathleen to hug him for a few moments. He stared up at her and then looked down a few steps to see Jane standing there as well. Jane's puzzled look caused him to ask, "What's wrong?" She stepped up a couple more steps and sat down sideways in front of him. "I am worried about you John." She had every reason to be worried. He was losing his grip on the reality that he had thought that he was starting to understand. He shook his head and nothing came out of his opened mouth. Kathleen let go of him, but held onto his hand. "If you need me, I will be in my study. If you want to talk later, you know." She smiled a small crooked smile and stood to walk back down the stairs, holding John's hand until her reach was maximized. He retracted his hand and looked away, not wanting to look at Jane. She dragged herself up a couple of steps until they were on an even keel. Jane's long fingers traced a line from John's ear to his nose and then from his chin to his throat. He couldn't help but to look up at her. "I am sorry Jane." His words were sincere, heartfelt, and the hardest words he had ever said to her. She grinned and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "We'll get through this John, if you will just trust me." He looked deeply into her brown eyes. There was no one in the world that he trusted more than he trusted her. She had done everything in her own power to make things right, she had tried all of the options that she could think of, short of killing Richard, but what could she do now? Was all hope not lost? And now that he had attacked Richard, surely there would be more police coming to try to take him away and put him in a cage. John stood and walked down the hall to the atrium. "Perhaps he belonged in a cage after all."  
  
Visions of ripping the flesh from the tiger's bones and eating the meat raw, without remorse, came flooding back to John. Tanning the animal skin, softening it with his own teeth, being covered in blood most of the time. He hadn't washed much, never knew what soap was. He had learned how to swim in the lakes and rivers and had spent much of his time there. He had become adept at catching fish with his hands and spear fishing. He had learned to eat meat raw, and cold. There had come a time when he discovered that he could create fire. By watching the villagers, at a fair distance, he had learned how to use the flint stone to make a spark on dry grass. In learning this, he also learned that meat tasted much better when it was heated on the fire and the blood was not dripping from it. There were times when his patience for creating a fire had out done him, and he would revert to raw meat, but as he grew, his patience grew and his hunger abated somewhat. His boyish frame and grown into the torso of a man, his arms were strong, his legs were fast. He could chase a cheetah, if the cheetah was running through the jungle, but once it hit the savannah, he could no longer keep up. The security of the jungle kept him safe, the savannah was too open, with no safety. He was not the fastest; therefore to keep from being some animal's dinner, he stayed away from there. He learned the hard way. The cheetah had chased Tarzan into the thick of the jungle, but had somehow managed to elude him, heading straight out to the flat land beyond the jungle trees. Tarzan had never been on the savannah, but he longed to see the animals that grazed there. This would be the day that he would see the animals for himself. Following the cheetah out of the jungle and onto the flat grazing land, Tarzan could see for what seemed miles. There were animals of every species there. Water buffalo, gazelle, eland, rhinoceros, elephant, hyena, lion and many others. Without thinking, Tarzan left himself wide open to the charge of the cheetah. She did not waste time dawdling as he did, she went straight for him, dragging her claws through his left shoulder, opening the skin and exposing the bone. Pain seared through him like never before, and blood poured from the three large open wounds. The cat was not done, she wanted more. She wanted to play with him until he could play no more. Tarzan knew that his only chance was to get back to his lair and cover the wounds so that the blood wouldn't attract any other animals. With his strength greatly waning, he picked himself up and began to make his way, carefully to the treed area. The cat lay in wait as he moved as stealthfully as possible. Having already let his guard down once, he would not do it again. Upon reaching the beginning of a path, he quickly climbed a tree and took hold of a large, thick vine and swung himself away from the open, and found one of his lairs to rest in. Once settled, where he knew that cat couldn't reach him, Tarzan tried to cover the open wound, wrapping some thick leaves over the huge gashes and ripping off a piece of his clothing to keep them in place. Upon completion of this task, following the loss of much blood, he passed out, cold. He did not know how long he had slept; he only knew that he felt weak and thirsty. He didn't have any water with him and he was too week to climb down from the aerie that he had built, to get some fresh water. He took some leaves and he chewed them, hoping to get some of the moisture from them. It would suffice for the time being, until he could gather his strength. The cat knew that she had wounded him; she wouldn't travel too far from him now.  
  
"John?" Jane was trying to get John's attention, but he just sat up in the perch and stared out to the plants in the atrium. Finally he grabbed hold of some bars and he swung himself down, landing firmly on both feet, inches away from Jane. "I have realized Jane, that I have lived in a cage all of my life." She looked at him questioningly, but waited for him to continue. "I have always lived in fear for my life, always. Though I learned to protect myself, I always had a fear of something." He pulled his left shirt sleeve up to reveal the wound marks left by the cheetah. Jane traced the marks with her slender fingers, still silent, waiting for John to finish. "The cheetah, she wanted dinner, I was supposed to be dinner. I almost was. I didn't outsmart her Jane, I out-waited her. I tried to outsmart Richard, but maybe I should have out-waited him. I just didn't want to be afraid anymore." John pulled the shirt sleeve back down, and dropped his hands to his sides. Jane took each of his hands in her own and squeezed. "John, you are not alone in this. You have me, Kathleen, hell you even have Sam and Nikki and there are others too." John walked away, pulling their hands apart as he spoke, "Richard is counting on that too Jane. He wants to hurt everyone that I care about. I cannot live like this." Jane, determined not to be cast aside, even in thought, rushed to John's side, grabbed both of his arms and jerked him around to face her. "No, you can't live like this, and you shouldn't have to, that's why I want to you to trust me. I promise, I will make it better for you, somehow. John, the truth isn't always cut and dried, the judge will know that. Allowances can be made." He still looked so sad. She just wanted to take him into her arms and hold him, all night long. He was not up for her company. He was finding it difficult to just be in the room with her. "I will go John. I am making you uncomfortable. But I promise you, if you show up tomorrow in court, I will do my utmost best to work things out for you, so that you won't have to worry about Richard." John pulled away from her grip. "That's not possible Jane; Richard will always have something to hold over me, as long as I care for you." He jumped up into one of the trees and disappeared into the foliage. Jane sighed as she walked to the door. Turning around, facing the emptiness, Jane spoke. "I know you don't think that I can take care of myself, but I can, I have been for years. You can't let Richard rule how you work, you have to take control of your life and not let him have it. Every time you get angry with him, or try to physically hurt him, you are hurting yourself more. Be the hunter John, exercise patience, just a little longer. "With that she left the room, and left John sitting there pondering what she had said. He could afford to have a little patience right now. In fact he could use a little sleep. The days events had taken all of the good out of him and he was exhausted. 


	5. Chapter Four

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Four A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). Kathleen stepped into the atrium, carrying a tray of various food items. She was worried about John; he hadn't been home for a few days before last night, so she wasn't sure if he had eaten or not. John was crouched on the rail of the balcony. Kathleen noted the cold wind whipping through his matted locks, and the state of dress he was in. If she was to get him to court on time, she would have to get busy now. "John, are you going to eat something?" He turned to acknowledge her, and then nodded to the air. "Your winter comes; the air is crisp, but too cold for my clothes." Kathleen lay the tray down beside John on the railing. "Yes, it gets bitterly cold some days, but right now it's just cool. We are going to have to see about getting you to wear some shoes today." John knew that he would have to go the court, if anything was ever going to work out for him here. He took his Aunt Kathleen's advice and showered, washed his hair and everything else (as she so eloquently put it, making him laugh out loud). He donned the green shirt, underwear, dress pants and even the shoes that she had laid out for him, but he refused, flatly, to wear the socks. Kathleen knocked on the door to the bedroom and entered once John acknowledged her knock. "I want to help you get ready, do you mind if I brush your hair?" John smiled, wrinkling the right hand corner of his mouth as he sat down on the bed so that his aunt didn't have to reach to brush. Once she began, he started to talk. "I am afraid of this day Kathleen." She knew he was, but to hear him admit it, scared her just a little as well. "John, we have good counsel and we have Jane and Sam on our side. We shouldn't worry." She stroked his hair, pulling lightly on the few knots that were left. He was only a child; they had both left him, died. He remembered weeping for days, perhaps longer, before the apes found him and took him in. He was not a small child, he was not a baby, but he was an orphan and Cheetah, as Tarzan had lovingly named her, adopted him from the onset. She kept him as safe as she could a six year old child. She taught him how to communicate with her, using gestures and a series of grunts. It was because of her that Tarzan had survived the Congo. Learning to scale the vines had been difficult, he had fallen many times, perhaps had broken bones, he wasn't sure, but he did learn. He learned to scurry like a monkey; his feet became as important as his hands. He learned to find clear, clean water, learned to tell what was good to eat, and what was not. He learned to protect himself from the other animals and he learned how to construct a small home for himself for when the apes were not around to protect him. What they couldn't teach him, was to be a man. Tarzan, the white ape, was a hunter, a wild animal set loose on the streets of New York.  
  
Richard had caged him, perhaps rightfully so. He did not understand this world that he was brought to. There were so many mixed signals coming from everyone, even Jane. At least back home in the jungle, he knew right and wrong and there was no in between. You didn't let anything hurt the ones that you cared about, and they had your back. Here it wasn't so simple. Jane protected the bad people and the good people got into trouble. There was something wrong with this system. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be a part of it.  
  
The sun rose into the clear blue sky, birds flew overhead, animals scurried and raced below. The world was simple on the top of this tree. The top of this tree was home. Home called him...........he was becoming homesick for his aerie in the Republic of Congo. A tear fell from his eye and traced a path past his nose and to his cheek, falling to rest from his chin to the lapel on his green shirt. Kathleen was about to tie John's hair into a ponytail when she turned him around to look at her. She saw the path that the single tear had taken and her heart broke. How could she possibly understand things to him so that he would understand? Life was not as simple her in the concrete jungle, but he could be looked after, no matter what. "John, you need to know that I love you, very much and I mean to see that you are not going to be hurt anymore, by anyone." John didn't acknowledge her words, though she knew he was listening. "Jane loves you too John and she won't let anyone hurt you anymore." To this Kathleen received a response. John pulled away from Kathleen, wiped the tear from his cheek and almost spat the words out, "Jane does not love me, and she just wants to help." Kathleen rested her hand softly on one of John's cheeks. She marveled at his complete innocence. One could only hope that he could retain that gift. It had survived the wilds of Africa; hopefully it could survive the "civilized world." She smiled at her handsome nephew. "Jane does love you John. Perhaps she has never said the words, perhaps she doesn't even know it yet, but for her to have done as much as she has done, and it's not just a job to her John. She has feelings. She's confused about everything, but trust me, Jane loves you." She smoothed her hand over John's cheek and then took his hand into hers. "We must be going; do you have any last minute things to do?" The confused look on John's face told her to elaborate, "I mean like going to the washroom, you know that kind of thing?" He shook his head and followed his aunt. She almost had to drag him down the stairs, as he kept complaining about the horrible shoes he had to wear. "Socks John, they would have helped, trust me." They didn't have time to argue, Kathleen's chauffeur waited for them outside of the limo, checking his watch. 


	6. Chapter Five

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Five A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). John was brought into the courtroom last. He didn't like the men trying to touch him, he pulled away and kept walking, he walked past Richard, Sam and Jane, past the lawyer and past his seat. Finally Jane intervened and told him where to go, and to sit. She had to tell him when to stand and to face the judge, not her. She was as nervous as him, perhaps more as he didn't really fathom what was happening today. She knew that it took a lot for him to come here, with shoes on, no less, to face this. Jane could not help feeling that he was doing it more for her than for him, but soon enough she would explain that to him. John's mind continued to wander as he watched the drama of the courtroom. People spoke in circles, and he had given up trying to understand, and he knew that Jane couldn't sit with him and explain things to him. He felt very alone sitting there while the man with the white hair spoke. The apes system seemed to work for them. When there had been an indiscretion or a transgression, it was taken up with the chief ape. Tarzan had been before him often, as he seemed to be a slow learner in the apes system. Cheetah tried to protect him from the other apes, but like all children, he had to learn the hard way. Tarzan tried to take on the chief when he was still a child. He may have been all of twelve years old in human years, but by this time he had spent half of his life in the jungle. He was adept at fending for himself, except where the ape chief was concerned. They didn't see eye to eye and Tarzan had decided that he would find out for himself who was the stronger and wise of the two.  
  
Cheetah was terrified for Tarzan and tried to pull him away from the chief, but it was no use. Tarzan had made up his mind, this was it.  
  
After what seemed like forever, but in fact was only a few minutes, Tarzan managed to scrape himself off of the ground and drag his bloody aching carcass away. Thankfully the ape had let him live, not using his full strength on the boy. Tarzan almost felt the mercy that had been shown him. After this incident, he had nothing but respect for the ape chief. He knew that his place was not at the head of the group, but somewhere in the middle. He had learned that he had been accepted by all now, now that he had challenged the chief, even though he had lost. The law and the rules had been laid out in front of him, clearly. There was no other way. John couldn't understand this system of justice. He should not be on trial here, it should be Richard on trial for what he had put his family through, or Gene for what he had tried to do to him and to Jane. Jane was protecting him, he was protecting Jane, but the two of them were the ones in trouble. Something seemed amiss. He couldn't comprehend how being in this room with these people could help the "case" as Jane called it. Many people left their seats and sat beside the man with the white hair. John tried to pay attention, but he kept looking to Jane, who looked worried. Then Donald took the seat up by the man with the white hair. Jane had said that Donald would help, he would tell the truth, but Donald was so nervous, so unsure of himself. This caused John just to become antsier. This and the fact that these shoes were killing his ankles. Whenever John would look back at Jane, she would motion for him to look forward. She tried to reassure him that things would be all right, but she didn't seem convinced. Kathleen had a very worried look on her face and Richard looked more smug than usual, behind his bevy of bruises from his encounter with the wild John the evening before. John studied his uncle, then his aunt, then Jane. He needed to understand how everyone could behave so differently toward him. He needed to understand his feelings toward all of them. Richard continued to watch the fiasco. Someone had tampered with Donald Ingram, but that wouldn't stop him, hell it wouldn't even slow him down. There were avenues that still hadn't been pursued. He would have John at his right hand, one way or another. He would just have to change his tactics. It was amazing how happy everyone was as the judge dismissed the case. This was only the tip of the iceberg. Richard Clayton had not maintained his status in the business world by sitting idly by and waiting for other people to make the first move. No, this was just a change for his strategy, nothing that he couldn't handle. John could still be brought over to his side; he would just have to use a different method. He would sink to a new level. Everyone was happy with what the man with the white hair said, but if John understood correctly, it really wasn't much of a win. He said that the case against John Clayton would be dismissed because of the lack of evidence. This didn't mean that he was proven innocent, it just meant that he wasn't proven guilty. It seemed a hollow win. Looking over to everyone else, Jane and Sam were hugging, and Kathleen leaned over to congratulate John with a kiss. When Kathleen turned away, both she and John could see Richard clearly. He looked a bit defeated, but not completely. Both of them knew that this would not be the end. John didn't have the heart to say anything to Jane. Jane had tried so hard to get John's name cleared, she believed that they had actually won here. John knew better. He had tried to explain to her that her rules and laws wouldn't keep Richard from coming back for more, it wasn't his nature. John thanked Jane, and she smiled, calling him Tarzan. This made John happy, he didn't want to think about Richard right now, he just wanted to live in the here and now, if possible. Tomorrow he would worry about Richard again. Jane took her shoes off, giving John permission to remove his. He was so happy to take them off, that he left them in the courtroom! He pulled his shirt tales from his slacks and followed Jane from the courtroom. Richard waited in the foyer, and watched as John and Jane descended the stairs. Were they both barefoot? Richard shook his head in disbelief, knowing that John Sr. would not have approved of such behaviour. Kathleen stepped in front of Richard and extended her hand. "Can we let bygones be bygones now Richard?" Richard smiled at his younger sister, she had a lot of the spirit of the Claytons, but she didn't have the same type of nerve as John Sr. and Richard. "John Sr. would be rolling in his grave Kathleen." Richard spoke to her, taking her hand gently. Kathleen was confused by her brother, he was not predictable lately. Since John had come into their lives, Richard had been more devious than she could ever remember. "John Sr. would be rolling for sure after what you did to his son." She pulled her hand away from him. Richard smiled that sly smile and pointed to John and Jane with his chin. "Do you really think that John would have approved of this Kate?" He shook his head as he watched the two of them head toward the door, trying to avoid the cameras and the press. "Those two have made some big mistakes lately. John certainly wouldn't have abided by his only son doing this to the company, to the family." Kathleen couldn't believe her ears. Richard was loosing his mind talking like this. If John Sr. was here right now, he would have applauded the way that John and Jane had stuck it out through this, although she knew that he would have reasoned, if he was here, this would not be happening because John Jr. would have been raised here, in civilization. Richard looked into his sister's eyes and saw an emotion that was unrecognizable. 'What Kate, you don't know how John Sr. really would have handled this right? Because if John Sr. was here, John would not be doing this, he would be groomed for the family business, not swinging on vines in your atrium and murdering police officers." With that last statement, Kathleen took her leave of the situation. This was a battle she wouldn't win today, but she would not give up. Jane and John met Kathleen and watched Richard walk through the revolving doors. John spoke first. "What did he want?" Somehow John still knew that Richard wasn't done yet, but he would not vocalize these concerns right now. "Just to be smug, nothing to worry about John." Kathleen took his face into her hands and kissed his cheeks, then pulled him close and hugged him. John smiled. He didn't mind this kind of touching. He smiled at his aunt as she did the same to Jane. "You have done well Ms. Porter, Jane." Kathleen smiled at the handsome couple, the handsome barefoot couple and shook her heads. "It's November out there you two, I would suggest something on the feet." She smiled at John. "Why don't we try a shoe store and you can chose something that you would find comfortable. I think you might like moccasins or some type of soft shoe. Please?" she pleaded and Jane smiled, nudging John in the elbow. He agreed. He didn't like the way that the shoes felt, but he was indeed getting very cold feet lately. 


	7. Chapter Six

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Six A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it.  
  
John wandered through the store looking at various shoes, boots, slippers and other footwear. He wasn't impressed by any of it. Kathleen and Jane just watched silently as he made his way through the men's foot ware to the woman's side. He held up a pair of stilettos and made a horrible pained face. "You would wear this Jane?" She smiled, looking at the beautiful black patent leather shoes. "Yes, I would John, but not because they would be comfortable, but because they would make me look nice." John cocked his head to the side and spoke honestly. "You always look nice Jane, especially with bare feet." Jane blushed, but understood what he was saying. "It's the way that society looks John. Everyone wants to fit in to society somehow." He again cocked his head to the side and then smiled. "Do I want this as well Jane?" What was it about him that every time he spoke her name, butterflies began to flutter in the pit of her stomach? He was never trying to be sensuous or sexy, but every time she heard him utter her name, she couldn't help feeling a little taken by it. "To an extent John, you want to fit in so that you can survive, but you don't want to change completely so that there is none of you left." He straightened his head up and smiled at the two women. Kathleen was quite pleased with the way that Jane explained things to John, not making him feel as though there was something wrong with the person that he had become, only showing him that he could still grow. She really liked Jane Porter. John placed the stilettos back on the shelf and moved on. Jane had put her shoes back on once outside, but John remained barefoot. A salesperson neared him and then backed away, offering his services to the two women first. John saw the man sidestep him and did not understand. John stepped between the man and the women, standing only inches from the now frightened man. "Why do you not speak to me? I am the one shopping, not them?" His question was honest, the man spoke with a touch of a stutter. "I didn't realize, umm, sir." He tried to back up, but John kept the space between them closed. Jane put her hand on John's arm and gently tugged him toward her. "Please John. To him you look like a bum, a derelict. He doesn't know that you are a customer, the probably thinks that you are here to steal something." John was completely thrown off kilter by this statement and he turned to the salesman to ask him. "Is that right? Do you think I am here to steal?" The salesman backed away and didn't answer. He hurried to the back room, probably in search of his manager. Jane reprimanded John. "You have to learn about personal space John. People don't like other people that close to them." John turned to her with a wicked grin. "You do." He stated simply. Kathleen chuckled and again, Jane blushed. Yes, she did. After Kathleen and Jane explained to the manager what was going on, he apologized for his salesman and offered them a discount on a pair of shoes. John finally sat down to try a pair on. The manager knelt in front of him and tried to help him. John just stared. "I can do this myself." He stated. The manager, an man in his mid fifties, balding and chubby, smiled at the young man. "I know you can son, I just would like to assist you. But if you do not want me to help, I will wait over there." And he pointed to the area with the cash register. John liked the idea of having a choice in something, so he chose to let the man stay. The woman stayed away, knowing that this was the only way that John was going to be able to learn about the world, by being in it. John bent forward to speak to the man. "I don't like shoes." The older man smiled, staring down ad John's dirty feet. "I see that, but winter is coming and your feet won't like the cold." He was right of course, but John hated to concede on this issue. "What do you think I should get then?" John asked out right. The kind man stood up, walked over to a shelf of shoes, picked up a couple of different ones and came back to John. These are good, they are comfortable and not too confining. One pair was a very soft pair of leather shoes, very dressy black shoes, the other was a pair of brown soft suede moccasins. John tried both pairs on, and even though he wasn't fussy on shoes, these would do. He also spotted a pair of sandals, and asked if he might try them. Of course the manager obliged him, and John really liked the feel of them, open, but something on the bottom. Kate smiled at John as she approached. Why don't you take all three John. You might need them all at some time.  
  
The apes were all covered with hair, but Tarzan was not. His skin was tanned, but very white compared to them. He had seen the people in the villages as he watched them travel through the jungle, he had seen the hunters as they also invaded the territory. All of them had some sort of covering on. In earlier years, Tarzan had not cared that he looked so different from the animals, but now as he was coming into his adolescence, he was feeling very different and didn't like that. He tried covering himself in the animal skins from his kills, but they were too warm for anything other than sleeping. He had tried covering himself with the leaves, but they just died and fell. He had gone back to the place where his family had been and found the things that he had saved from them. His father's clothes hadn't fared well in the crash, most had been burned, as had his and his mother's, however a few things did survive. He found a pair of walking shorts and a shirt. He put them on and although they did not fit well, he was covered, and felt better. The animals laughed at him, but he didn't care, he was covered now. He wore those clothes until they wore thin, becoming just a bit of material covering him where he needed to be covered. 


	8. Chapter Seven

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Seven A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it.  
  
John paced back and forth through the atrium. Kathleen and Jane had decided to relax in the salon of Kathleen's apartment, but John was not content to sit. While he paced he attempted to 'break in' a pair of the shoes. Of course he chose the sandals. He did not like the confinement of them, but at least he would have warmer feet and maybe Jane and Kathleen would stop fretting for a while. John did not know what winter was, but this bitter cold that was upon them did not sit right in his bones.  
  
The sun beat down on the savannah. Tarzan stood at an opening in the jungle, facing the dry flat plains and wished that he could just go out there and wander. His fear of the tiger always kept him close to the jungle, where he could climb higher than the wild cat could. In the distance he could hear the rumble of thunder and realized that the rainy season was upon them. He would have to reinforce his 'home', make sure that the mudslides wouldn't hide the entrance to his cave and that the rain didn't destroy his aerie. Knotting the jute into a sturdy rope, Tarzan made his two homes sturdy. The cave would keep him out of the weather, but the aerie would allow him to scout on the area without touching the ground. Although many of the animals could climb, not many had his agility. That opposing thumb made many things easier. Cheetah watched as he did these things. She was older now, her mane was turning a shimmering silver and she looked more regal than ever. Tarzan worried about her. She hadn't been with a mate since he came along, she had no children to tend to. He was the only one left to nurture. Nurture she did, Tarzan was rarely out of her sight. She would spy on him from various stakeouts, not realizing that he knew full well she was there, and it made him happy to know that she was. The thunder rolled in the distance and the sky opened up to reveal a pouring of cool clear water, in sheets, falling now in the distance, over the plains. It would reach the jungle by nightfall; all must be readied for it.  
  
After a half an hour of fighting with the sandals and developing a nasty blister on his foot, John finally gave up and threw them in a corner. He ran out of the French doors and landed in a squat on the balcony rail. The world was dim, a storm was coming. John's various wounds had been aching all day, but he said nothing. The pain did not bother him, to be in pain meant that one was alive, and could still feel. He watched the lightening in the distance and became melancholy. Some days he really missed her. He missed his ape mother. She didn't have to say anything; she just had to be there. The sky lit up like rockets and a sheet of rain began to pelt the towering buildings in the distance. John continued to watch in fascination as the grey world became greyer.  
  
Richard paced the length of his study, staring at the balcony, wondering about John. He still had marks on his neck from the rainy night that John had let himself in and threatened Richard, telling him to leave Jane and Kathleen alone. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass against the ice and then in a frustrated attempt to vent, he threw glass, liquid and all into the fireplace. The alcohol cause a small burst in energy, then it slowed to a small flame again. Shards of glass lined the floor at the bottom of the fireplace; Richard seemed either not to notice, or not to care.  
  
He stepped over to his desk, removed a ring of keys from his pocket and proceeded to open a drawer. Inside the drawer was an ornate wooden box, which too was locked. Richard removed the box from the drawer and turned the keys on his ring to find the matching one for the box. It was a very small and detailed key, which slid easily into the lock. He almost changed his mind, but thought twice and continued to open the now unlocked box. The papers inside the box were yellowed with age, most of them hand written, some of them typed on an ancient Oviletti. Richard sat back in the high backed leather chair and studied the words on the pages. Would this be the time to pull out the big guns? He had given both John and Kathleen enough rope to hang themselves. Would he save them, or let them drop? He would have to contemplate this thought further.  
  
The rain came as it had promised and Tarzan held his stead in the aerie. He had looked around but he could not see Cheetah. He hoped that she had made it to dry ground, or at least to his cave. His world was in need of a washing. There had been much blood shed these past months, the apes had been tracked and killed by the white hunters. Tarzan in an attempt to cover his similarities to these 'men' had tried covering the colour of his skin with the juice from the red berries below the big tree. It had only caused his skin to become very sick and it took days for it to clear up. The water from the falls did not clean the colour, nor the infection. If it had not been for Cheetah and her comfort, Tarzan was sure that he would have gone made with the itch.  
  
There didn't seem to be enough rain to ever clean this city. John stared down into the streets and saw a mugger knock an elderly lady down and steal her purse. He scaled down the side of the building, racing against the elements, bare foot and then pounced upon the criminal. John roared and hissed at the man, knocking him over and hitting him squarely in the jaw. The man tried to hit back, but John knocked him back down every time he attempted to rise. Finally the man crawled away, leaving the purse behind. John carried the heavy bag back to the elderly woman and made sure that she was all right. She smiled up at him, as the rain soaked his blond locks to his cheeks. She stared down at the bare feet and opened her purse. She tried to hand him a ten dollar bill, but he resisted. "Why do you give me money?" John asked the kindly woman. 'You look like you need it more than I do young man. I want to help you as you helped me." John did not understand the concept of money. Why would someone pay you for doing something that you would do anyway? He couldn't understand. John closed his hand around the old woman's hand and he smiled. "Thank you for that, but I helped because you needed help, not because I wanted you to pay me." The woman held her shaky hand up to John's cheek and softly touched him. He did not recoil as he normally did when anyone other than Jane or Kathleen would touch him. "I will walk with you until you are safely home." John offered. The much shaken older woman wrapped her arm in John's and they walked the extra block and a half to her apartment. John made sure that she was safe before he left. She called out to him. "I don't even know your name!" John answered as he exited the building, "Tarzan, my name is Tarzan." She shook her head and closed her door. "What kind of a name is Tarzan?"  
  
John found himself once again alone in the rain. He couldn't decide whether or not to return to Kathleen's or just to wander. He had much thinking to do, and in the rain, he could organize his thoughts more carefully. He could prioritize things, knowing what should be most important.  
  
Cheetah had been no where to be found. Tarzan looked everywhere that she would normally be. He enlisted the help of all of his jungle friends, but she seemed to have disappeared. Tarzan wandered aimlessly through the thick jungle, cutting the vines and anything in his way with the old bowie knife. Night was coming and the rain hadn't slowed at all. He could not pick up her scent because of the weather. There......there were tracks in the mud. The tracks were not clear; they looked as though someone or something had dragged something through here, something of substance. Tarzan tried to get a whiff of Cheetah's scent, but something was masking the scent.  
  
John stopped dead in his tracks. His ventures had led him back here. Somehow he always ended up back here. What was it about the Greystoke building that held him? What was the allure? He looked up and saw the familiar light in Richard's study on. Other than the one light, the building seemed almost deserted. He scaled the side of the building and landed on the balcony by Richard's study. He stood watching his uncle tracing the lines of an old wooden box with his index finger. The look on Richard's face was one of concern. John did not see the antagonistic look that he was used to. He stared. Richard felt eyes on him and he looked up to see a drenched John standing outside of his study, on the balcony. John didn't look as though he was in a fighting mood, so Richard took a chance. He walked to the door and opened it, inviting John inside. "You're soaking wet, come in and sit by the fire to warm up." It worked. John entered the room without incident, and walked over to the now dying fire. Richard knelt before the fire, put another log on and stoked it good, making the fire roar and sizzle with heat. John knelt beside his uncle. For a long while the silence overtook the room. Finally John spoke. "Things did not work out the way that you wanted them today." It was a statement, nothing more, nothing less, and Richard took it at face value. He didn't want to scare his nephew off, he had come for no reason other than to talk, this was a good sign, and this was a sign of the charisma that Richard so dearly wanted to understand, to possess. "I don't want you in jail John. You are meant for great things."  
  
The trail led to the edge of the jungle, to the savannah. The plains were soaked, water engorging itself in every nook and recess. The path that Tarzan followed had been swallowed by the mud. The tracks were almost completely gone. Ahead a ways, Tarzan could see some movement and could hear small, nearly inaudible sounds. The sounds were almost familiar. It was then that he realized what he was seeing and what he was hearing. There was a machine in the distance, a machine that carried men in it, men and the animals that they had hunted and killed. He saw her and he went insane with rage! The men were dragging Cheetah, who's struggling had tired her somewhat, so that she seemed to go without a fight. Tarzan knew better. She was playing dead, but they wouldn't care if she was dead or alive. They wanted the animals alive, but they would take them dead too. They didn't care. He raced to catch them, but the machine arrived before he could. He watched helplessly as he kept running toward them, Cheetah was bound and shoved into the back of the machine. Tarzan bounded through the savannah, not caring if indeed the tiger was there. He took a leap and ended up in front of two men, both with guns, aiming them at him. "What's this? Hello then, are you lost?" Tarzan stared at the man. He hadn't heard anyone speak since his parents died and he had been thrown out of the village. He understood the man, but refused to speak to him. The men continued to shove Cheetah into the back of the truck, but Tarzan would have none of that. Without warning, he attacked one man and then the other. 


	9. Chapter Eight

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Eight A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it.  
  
Richard put the cast iron fire poker back on the stand. He stood and offered John a drink to warm him. "Would you like a drink John? I could get you some hot cider." John stood and faced his uncle. Richard braced himself for one of John's outbursts, but was pleasantly surprised with the response. "I would like to have something warm. Thank you." Richard slowly backed up and headed to his desk. He picked up the telephone to call the kitchen. "Marietta, could you bring two hot apple ciders to my study?" He hung the phone back up and walked back toward John. John walked around the room, admiring the many books and niceties that his uncle took pride in owning. "Do you have someone to do everything for you?" The question was not asked out of malice, merely curiosity. Richard laughed and answered. "Almost John." John turned to face his uncle, closing the distance between them. "Why?" Richard was thrilled. John was here asking questions, this was a breakthrough. John was actually interested in this aspect of things. He knew that John would tire of the atrium and Jane and want more out of his life here in New York. Richard motioned for John to sit, as he sat across from him. Marietta entered the room with a silver tray, on it were two mugs of hot cider and a place of gingerbread cookies, Richard's favorite. Marietta smiled at the handsome, albeit soaking wet man sitting across from Richard. She had seen him many times, usually behind glass, or tied to a bed somewhere. It was nice to see him like this. Her smile caused John to smile back.  
  
Richard sipped on the cider and studied his nephew. Something was amiss, and he would certainly get to the bottom of it. He would have the necessary patience to find out what was going on. He was pleased that John had made this move. "So John, may I ask what brings you over on such a night?" Richard was relaxed into his easy chair and John was making every attempt to get comfortable. The cider tasted as good as it felt. The fire was roaring now, he was drying, but he had no idea why he was here. "I don't know." He responded honestly. Richard was impressed with the statement. "That's fair." The men sat silently for a while, Richard not wanting to push John too hard. John finished his drink, but was unsure what to do with the empty cup. Richard recognized the dilemma and stood to take the cup. John stood with him. Richard placed both his and John's cups on the sideboard and sat again. John sat. He was feeling very unsure of himself. This was uncharted territory for John.  
  
Kathleen and Jane walked through the atrium calling for John. After not receiving a response, they walked to the end, where the doors were still opened. "He's gone." Kathleen stated, recognizing that he would always leave these doors opened when he left. The weather was horrible. The rain fell in sheets, the lightening striking not far away. "He has no sense sometimes." She added. Jane felt a twinge in her stomach. She had taken to worrying about John, even though she knew he was perfectly capable of looking out for himself. "He probably was saving some damsel in distress!" Jane blurted sarcastically. Kathleen smiled, recognizing the signs. "He'll be back Jane, he does this a lot, you should know that." Jane knew that he would visit her at all hours of the day or night, what she didn't realize was that he was always on the go. Did he not know how to sleep? Jane paced, Kathleen smiled at her. "He won't be back any time soon. You may as well either get comfortable, or come back downstairs with me." Jane shook her head. She knew that when John went out like this, he would be gone for some time. She really should head home. "Nikki is probably wondering where the heck I am. I didn't realize how late it was."  
  
The hours had passed with Kathleen and Jane chatting about everything under the sun. The women had become easy friends. Such good friends in fact that they had left John on his own most of the evening not realizing how quickly the time had passed. Jane thanked Kathleen for her hospitality and made her way to the cab waiting out front. She looked up to the sky line, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blonde wild man, but he was not there tonight. She slid into the backseat, gave the driver directions and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She had forgotten to turn it on after court. There were three messages waiting for her; two from Nikki, one from Sam. They were wondering where she was and if she was all right. She returned their calls in turn and was home just as she was hanging up from speaking to Nikki. Jane was exhausted. The days had been very long recently, with no hope of sleep in sight for a while. Tonight would be the night to catch up on her zzzzz's. She still had a bad feeling about things though. John had disappeared without a word, that wasn't like him. Perhaps he was waiting in her bedroom window. 


	10. Chapter Nine

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Nine A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it.  
  
Nikki was wrapped in a blanket watching television when Jane opened the door. The exchanged the usual hello's and Jane hurried to her bedroom, on the premise that she had to get out of her wet clothes. John was not in the window; in fact her window was closed and locked. Jane ran to Nikki to ask how her window got locked. "I locked it, the wind was whipping it back and forth and for some reason it doesn't close well unless it's locked." Jane turned and walked back to the bedroom. Even if he had been here, he would have left; he didn't like to sit outside in the rain if he didn't have to. She sat on the edge of the bed, and then flopped backward. Maybe tonight would not be the night to catch up on any sleep.  
  
Richard stared across at his nephew. He saw the wild child, but he could see beyond. A good haircut, a good suit and some nice Italian leather shoes and he would be on the road to success. It was all about image. John had that je ne sais croix, about him. Richard wished that there was a way to siphon it out and use it for himself, but it was impossible. No, he would have to have John in his corner, working with hi instead of against him, if he was going to take this business to the levels that it was meant to go. "Is there anything that you need John, anything that you want?" Richard was grasping at straws, not knowing just how to communicate with John without barking orders of some sort. John looked at his uncle with a forlorn frown. "I do not know. What should I need? You are a man, perhaps this is why I came here, to find out what a man needs." Richard was ecstatic with this epiphany. John needed something from him and had been man enough to seek him out. Richard could not have been more pleased with the situation. This was just the breakthrough that he had been looking for. He leaned forward resting his hands on his knees. "There are a lot of things that a young man needs. I think you need to spend more time with men, than with women for starters." John cocked his head to the side and pondered the thought. That might actually be a good idea. When he spent time with Jane, he was more interested in touching her than anything else lately. He was tired of the rejection, of her pushing him away whenever he got close to her. Perhaps she needed time away from him to find out if she wanted him around or not. "Go on." John pled. Richard sank back into his chair, deep in thought, trying to figure out what it was that John wanted to hear. "You need to learn to read and write; this is very important." John knew that, Kathleen and Jane had stressed that more than once with him. None of them knew that he had been spending time in secret, going through all of his books and trying to remember his early lessons. His mind had been a steel trap, for he was doing quite well. He would not share that tidbit with Richard though. Richard was enjoying this. "You need your family John, all of it, not just Kate. You need someone to be like a father to you." John leaned forward in his seat. "I had a father, he is gone now." Richard saw the pain in John's expression as he had uttered those words. He suddenly felt compassion for the six year old child that was abandoned at the gates of hell. He was at a loss for words. John felt this too, so he went on himself. "What did you take me from there?" There was no anger in John's voice, no indifference, it was just a question." Why was Richard so compelled to feel for John. What was it about tonight that made his empathy run so deep? Was it due to the fact that John had come to him finally, or was it just the fact that this was his nephew, in some kind of pain, looking for relief? "I really thought that it was the right thing to do. You are my blood, I searched for many years to find your folks and you. I don't really think that I believed I would find you, but I did and I really believe that you belong here, with your remaining family, to follow in your father's footsteps." John didn't really understand that metaphor yet, but he pretended he did.  
  
The men lay face down in a pool of their own blood. Cheetah lay helpless in the back of the truck, moaning softly in pain. Tarzan took the knife and cut the binding, setting her free. He could sense that it was too late. She was not long for this world. She lifted her hand and caressed his cheek with the back of it, and slowly closed her eyes. "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he yelled as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He raced back to the jungle with her, hardly feeling the dead weight of her lifeless body. Upon reaching his cave, he carefully placed her inside and ran to get some cool water for her. He returned with a deep leaf filled with cool water from the river. She looked asleep. She didn't look pained, but only peaceful. Tarzan tried to fool himself into believing that she was only asleep, and attempted to pour some water into her mouth. Her heart did not beat any more. He took her hand and held it up to his cheek, almost slapping himself with it. He muttered the sounds that they understood between the two of them, but she did not respond. Hoping against all hope that she had just played dead for the men, Tarzan sat and waited it out. Soon she would come to, soon she would be up reprimanding him for something or other. Soon... Hours passed before he would believe that hope was lost. Cheetah had passed into the great unknown. He mourned her, he cried, he screamed, he sobbed, he beat the ground, he beat his knuckles bloody against a tree. She was not coming back to him. She was gone. Again, Tarzan would be alone.  
  
John finally realized what he was doing here. It had nothing to do with bonding, or finding out what he really needed out of life, it was really to find out what Richard was up to. If he could have Richard believing that they might possibly be on the same side, perhaps things would go more smoothly for everyone involved. "I must go now." John stood and Richard stood as well. "If you must, but you are welcome to stay." John gave Richard a sideways look that Richard understood all too well. It was one of distrust. He could not afford to back step now, not after having accomplished so much this night. "You can stay, and leave any time you like John. I promise not to keep you here against your will." Did he really mean that? John was not willing to find out just yet. Best to keep these things moving slow. "I need to go. But, thank you for the drink and the warmth." He meant the fire, but Richard thought that he may have also meant the company. "You are welcome any time John. Thank you for dropping by tonight. I mean it, come by anytime." John headed to the French doors, opened them and stepped out into the night. It was a shame, it was cold and wet and it was warm and dry here. Why would he leave? He still didn't trust Richard. He had much on his mind.  
  
John sat by Jane's window watching. She was half on the bed, with her feet on the floor, fully dressed, yet sound asleep. She had closed her window, but it was unlocked. He was unsure as to whether or not he should go in, or perhaps knock. Should he tell her where he was this night? Or should he keep that information to himself. She would not understand, would she? Out of everyone in the world that he knew, Jane was the only one that he trusted completely. He hated having had put her in danger just for knowing him. He felt sorry for all of the trouble that that she had gotten into over him. How could he repay her? Jane waited patiently, watching the different expressions cross John's face. If the window were opened, he would have known that she was awake, but he was not intoned to her through the glass. Something was definitely on his mind, was he brooding or melancholy? Just when she thought he was going to open the window, he pulled his hand away and pulled back. Quickly she rose from the bed and pulled the window opened. "John, don't go." She called out to him. He heard her and turned back toward her. "You were asleep." She smiled and raised her hand to brush his cheek. 'Not yet I wasn't. Come in. Where were you?" John didn't want Jane to be upset so he only told her part of his story. He told her about the older woman whom he had saved from the mugger and who had offered him money for helping. Jane smiled knowing that he must have made an old woman very happy because not only did he not take her money, he walked her home and didn't hurt her.  
  
John leaned up against the window sill, trying to decide if he should ask to stay, or if he should just go. Jane approached him and took his hand. "Sit John, you look exhausted." Together they sat on the edge of the bed, neither speaking, neither letting go of the other's hand. John's mind could not free itself of the images of Cheetah. A tear escaped from his eye, and then another and another until he could no longer hold back. All of the amassed events had just crept up on him, he was emotionally exhausted. Jane wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her. He rested his head in the crook of her neck and cried until the tears would no longer come. The two of them lay back on the bed, holding each other, not letting go. "It's going to be all right John, I promise." Jane spoke softly into John's ear. He shook his head. "I don't think so Jane." 


	11. Chapter Ten

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Ten A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com).  
  
Richard sat at his desk with hope renewed. He placed the yellowed documents back into the wooden box, locked it and cached it back in the drawer from whence it came. He would have to rethink his strategy. John indirectly made a significant point here tonight. He really didn't know what he needed and somehow Kathleen and Jane would always fall short of catering to needs that John wasn't even aware of yet. Power was not easily harnessed, but once done, it was almost impossible to let go of. John had a power that he wasn't sure of, didn't know how to handle yet. Perhaps Richard could somehow lure him back over to this side with just some good old fashioned "uncling." He smiled that crooked smile, his eyes twinkling, the stood and stretched. Tonight he would sleep well, the morning would be busy, he had plans to make.  
  
John had fallen into a heavy sleep wrapped around Jane. When he woke he was surprised at their entanglement. They both lay on their sides, her legs were intertwined with his, one thrown over his hip, her one hand was on his chest, her other hand was resting between them. His arms were tightly wrapped around her, his cheek resting on her chest. He could hear her heart beating out a slow steady tattoo. He felt safe here with her, if only for a few hours. Jane stirred and John moved his head to look at her. Her eyes were still half closed, and she smiled a tender loving smile at him, that made him believe that maybe everything was going to be all right, like she promised. "Jane." There it was again. That heat churning in the pit of her stomach, just from hearing him say her name. It was like they were the only people in the entire universe. "Tarzan?" She tried to sound sensuous, like he did when he spoke her name, but she just felt silly saying it. But John smiled nonetheless. He was pleased that she was making the effort. John sat up and propped elbow on the bed, resting his head in his hand. If only................................................................ Jane's eyes didn't want to stay opened. She was tired and kept drifting in and out of sleepiness. John enjoyed just laying her watching her in her semiconscious state.  
  
Now that Cheetah was gone, Tarzan really was alone. He had no one else to speak of. He was too different from the other animals to really be accepted by any one species. The apes had co-existed with him for these many years because of Cheetah. Would they still accept him now that she was gone? His existence had been solemn enough until this incident, but at least he always had at least Cheetah to seek out when he needed company. He roamed the jungle aimlessly, even wandering out onto the savannah. There he found a black panther, ripping the entrails from a gazelle, savoring his kill. John approached him, not even carefully, not even downwind. He stood in front of the regal cat and pointed at the kill. He wanted to share the meat with the animal, would the animal share with him? Tarzan took it upon himself to just take a bone, thick with meat, while the animal watched almost in disbelief. Tarzan sat beside the huge cat and ripped the meat from the bone with his teeth. He could have sworn that the animal was purring. During the course of the meal, the large cat never rejected John's presence, or attempted to hurt him. They sat together quietly for many hours after the filling meal. While the cat cleaned himself, Tarzan attempted to do the same. Days went by, the two remained together. They drank from the river together; they hunted together and even slept together, both with one eye opened. Tarzan learned to almost trust the creature. He had been so lonely since losing Cheetah, he longed for some type of companionship, even if it was one of his worst enemies, the panther. When either would hunt and kill, it would be shared by both. Tarzan believed that he had made a friend.  
  
John sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes. It had been some time since he had slept that soundly. "Thank you." He finally responded. Jane was confused. "Thank you for what?" John gently touched her cheek, leaning thisclose into her. He felt her breath catch and her heart begin to pound. How could she ever say that she didn't like him close to her when her body language said something altogether different? He smiled. "Just for being here, for caring." His nose nudged her hair away from the side of her neck as he took in her scent. No matter how many times she washed, no matter how much perfume she put on, he would always be able to find her. He knew this smell as if he had known it all of his life. As his breath touched her, he could see her skin rise in a series of goose bumps. He enjoyed the effect that he had over her. Something was different about her this morning. She wasn't stopping him, or pulling away or pushing him away. For some reason, John was suspicious and stopped. Jane seemed disappointed, but did not say. He rose from his position on the bed and headed for the window. Jane sat up and spoke to him, "don't you want to stay for breakfast. Maybe have a shower and we will spend the day doing nothing?" Jane was disappointed in her feeble attempt at seduction. John knew what was going on, but this was not the time. He had too much on his mind; too many things had to be done. He wanted to make sure that she was safe, at least from Richard.  
  
As he stood at the window, John tried to decide what to tell Jane. He didn't like having secrets from her, but he knew if she caught wind of his plans for Richard, she would definitely try to put a stop to them. No, things must go ahead, whatever the future held. If she really did love him, she would understand. "I must go Jane." Jane knew that there was no dissuading him. He was a man who usually knew what he wanted, and for the most part, he pursued whatever it might be. She squeezed his hand and said good bye as she slid threw the opened window and scaled the outer wall to the roof. The city had not improved from the rain; it was still dank and dingy. John longed for the green of home, for the smells of the jungle, for the absolute freedom. All that held him here in New York was the promise of Jane's affections, and perhaps the fact that he did have a family here.  
  
Kathleen was sitting at her desk in her office when John showed up looking rather disheveled. "You didn't come home last night John, is everything all right?" She pulled her glassed down to the tip of her nose and studied him. There was something different about him, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Did Jane find you?" John grunted a yes and walked toward Kathleen's desk, standing directly in front of her. "I need your help." John managed to say. He looked very determined and Kathleen had learned early on, not to mess with the wild child when he was in a mood. She knew that he could easily be reasoned with, but first you had to have his attention. "Certainly John, anything." Kathleen would do anything for her older brother's child. She loved him dearly and would take any opportunity to indulge him. John picked up a pen and a blank piece of paper and handed them to Kathleen. "Please, I need you to write something for me." She took the pen and paper and waited patiently for John to organize his thoughts. When he began to speak, she was flabbergasted. "In the event of something of my disappearance, or my death, I wish to leave my money and my belongings to my Aunt Kathleen and my friend Jane. They can do what they want with it." Kathleen could not put pen to paper, she was so stunned. John kept looking at her, waiting for her to write, when she didn't he pleaded with her. "You must do this Kathleen, you must. It is best for everyone if there is something that can prove this, just in case Richard ever proceeds in what he is planning." 


	12. Chapter Eleven

"The Greatest Discovery" Part Eleven A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.  
  
Want it? You can have it... But I'd appreciate it if you'd email me before you take it anywhere. (tfelicity39@hotmail.com). The cat sat quietly purring, staring out at the vast plains. Tarzan, sated for the time being, rested against a large tree, enjoying the feel of the cool wet grass on his warm body, he fell into a deep sleep. The cat watched him, never taking her eyes off of him. The gazelle had sated her hunger for the time being, she would not have to eat for some time now. As the soft snores began to emit from the human, the cat closed her eyes and perched her head upon her folded front paws to sleep as well. For a few hours, the savannah was quiet. The lions yawned up at the golden sun, the gazelles romped freely, and the birds sang a happy song. All was right with the world. "What is Richard planning on doing John?" Kathleen stood, her eyes imploring John to answer her. "I don't know yet Kathleen, I just know it's not over and I need to know that you and Jane will be all right." Kathleen's hands immediately took a hold of John's upper arms and her nails dug into the bare skin. He tried to gently pull away from her but she had a good grip on him. 'You know that we will be all right, you are the one we worry about. I thought that this was the end of this nonsense." John noted the pitch of Kathleen's voice, the sweat beading on her brow, her tightened grip on his arms. She was afraid, not merely worried, she was extremely frightened. John managed to pull his arms out of Kathleen's 'death grip' and he put his hands firmly onto her shoulders. He could see the panic in her eyes; he could feel her breath coming faster. He remembered Cheetah, the way that she would try to protect him, but couldn't. He needed to explain to Kathleen.  
  
"I have memories Kathleen, they are not clear, and they make little sense right now, but I have them just the same. I remember my mother and my father. Do you know why we were flying over the Congo?" Kathleen had to sit down, her heart was racing and she needed to catch her breath. As she sat, John squatted in front of her, waiting for her answer. "All I remember is that they were making the trip for a vacation. John always wanted to visit Africa." John leaned into her. "Think about it Kathleen, what was going in at that time in Africa?" Kathleen rolled her eyes and smiled. "There is always some civil unrest there John.' She tried to comfort him; he saw this and relaxed a bit. He smiled, knowing full well that she wasn't aware of the comings and goings of her favoured older brother. It was best that he keep what knowledge he had, to himself. For the time being anyway. "You are right Kathleen, but would you write the letter anyway and then keep it in a safe place for me? John left the office and raced up the stairs to his apartments. He needed a shower badly, his hair was matted from being wet, then sleeping on it without brushing it. There were some things that he really did appreciate about civilization and a hair brush was one of those things, that and a warm bath or shower. He did not require many things, but some luxuries were hard to do without once indulged in. John found some clean clothes, stepped into the shower and scrubbed himself until he felt clean again. Clean was a nice feeling. Although getting his feet clean was a definite chore. Kathleen had introduced him to pumice, which to him was much the same as walking through the sand with wet feet. It got the job done, but he had to scrub. The sand on the beach did the work for him! He smiled at himself. It was hard for him to even imagine this life a few months ago, before his "visit" to his home!  
  
After drying off, he dressed in fresh clothing, found the jacket that Jane had purchased for him and donned a pair of the shoes. He felt more comfortable in the moccasins, although he did not like the confining feeling. He had just come in from outside and he knew that it was too cold for bare feet and no jacket. He would have to conform to these clothing rules, or freeze. He didn't like that alternative. Richard woke up in a great mood. Nash even noticed it and speculated many things. Richard laughed when he asked if he had met a woman! Although he hadn't had a female companion in a while, Richard thought that might be a nice idea too. But that wasn't what was causing the good mood. He was still elated about last night, about John's impromptu visit, for no apparent reason but to talk. When he related this to Nash, Nash almost lost his balance. "John Clayton Jr. Here, last night, not to cause any problems, just to talk." Richard gleefully nodded. Nash shook his head. "I don't trust him Clayton." Richard looked at him with disdain. "It's not your call Nash. I was here, I know what happened. He was just a nephew looking to have a conversation with his uncle." Nash again shook his head and headed toward the carafe to pour himself a cup of coffee. "If you say so." He knew when to keep his mouth shut. He knew what side his bread was buttered on, and he wanted to keep getting that bread. Richard's light mood would not be altered by a distrustful employee. He knew that John wanted to have a family. He wanted John to be a part of the family. Why else would he have brought him back from the Congo? Richard poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with the early newspaper. WILD MAN SAVES WOMAN Richard read the article on page 4, top left hand corner. The woman described John to a t. She stated that she wanted to thank him publicly because he refused to accept any money from her, he just wanted to make sure that she made it home safely. She had been mugged and the "homeless man", as she stated, intervened, chasing down the criminal and returning with her purse intact. Her plea was to find the man and perhaps help him find a home, get back on his feet again. Richard laughed. It would take a lot for John to change his ways. Richard would have to prove to him that there was more than one way to save someone. He would set his sights on educating John in this aspect. John showed up downstairs, clean and hungry. Kathleen was reading the article in the paper about the elderly woman who was mugged when she saw John pouring a glass of orange juice. She brought the paper to him and showed it to him. "Can you read this?" John looked at her strangely. Did she know that he could read? Was this a test? "You read it to me." He simply asked. She refused to indulge, finally revealing that she was aware oh his bountiful knowledge of reading. He took the article and read it to himself. Kathleen smiled. "they are calling you the Wild Man now!" They laughed and then John lifted up a foot to reveal the shoe. "With this on, no one will know I am the wild man. I will be in disguise." Again they shared a laugh and then sat down to eat. 


End file.
